


"The Play's The Thing"

by LylaRivers



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:56:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LylaRivers/pseuds/LylaRivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "The Conscience of the King", Jim can't bring himself to read any more Shakespeare plays.  Spock decides this is unacceptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt where Jim really loves Shakespeare, but after Kodos, he can't bring himself to read Shakespeare anymore. Spock offers to read to him, and soon all of Jim's bad memories of Kodos and Tarsus IV are replaced by Spock reading Shakespeare to him.  
> I did the best I could.

With the way this new attempt is going, Jim is more than ready to give up and throw the book at his cabin's wall. He resists only through sheer willpower, and the knowledge that paper books are expensive.

Just another thing to hate Kodos for he thinks ruefully, staring at his long beloved copy of Twelfth Night.  How had it possible for the Karidian Acting Company's simple performance of Hamlet - one of his favorite plays, considered one of the greatest tragedies - to ruin his deep seated love of Shakespeare in all forms? Twelfth Night is a comedy, for goodness sakes!

Still, every line, every verse seems to bring horrific flashbacks with it. Jim stares at the book, unseeing, and relives his time on the Tarsus colony, with all the innate horror of a war victim. Well - for all intents and purposes, he might as well be one.

Since the accident with Kodos, everything reminds him of Tarsus.  He sees the pity in the eyes of the rescuers, as they dispense hypos full of nutrients and medicines every time he stops in Sickbay.  He’s actually stopped talking to Bones in his office because it gives him a sense of nausea to be surrounded by so many hypos.

He can barely bring himself to eat more than a few bites at a time - and he never sits with Bones or Spock anymore.  It seems so fundamentally wrong to be eating and enjoying himself with so many dead.  What makes him more worthy to be a survivor than so many others?

He even goes so far as to avoid any area of the ship where Kevin Riley might be.  It’s terrible, of course, and totally irrational.  But he does it anyways.  He can’t bear to look at the kid, even though they both went through much the same thing.

It seems that even the book itself conspires against him - the book had been his first print copy of Shakespeare, a gift from his aunt on the colony. He vividly remembers her pressing the copy of Twelfth Night into his hands, telling him how much she had enjoyed the book as a kid.  He read it so many times during the halcyon days of the colony - and keeping the book hidden once the famine hit.  He also remembers not allowing the Starfleet forces who came to rescue them to load him onto the shuttle until he was able to recover his aunt’s book.

Finally, restraint be damned, Jim throws the book at the wall opposite his bed. The book hits with a satisfying thunk - then lands face down. Jim winces, and runs to pick it up.

Jim instantly feels horrible for throwing it when he notices one of the pages is ripped - just slightly, but its there. He smooths the pages down, and carefully sets the book back on his shelf.

How could Kodos have denied him even this simple pleasure of reading?

***

There’s a firm knock at the door.  “Captain? I heard a loud noise from your room.  Are you well?” a calm measured voice asks from outside his door.  Spock.

Jim wants to groan, but instead, he gets up and opens the door for his First Officer.  “I’m just fine, Spock,” he says.  “I just… threw a book at the wall.  No big deal or anything.”

“Is it, Captain? In the month since Kodos has been killed and his daughter Lenore committed, you have lost 6.4 pounds.  Furthermore, you have been distracted and listless since that time,” Spock says, still standing in the doorway.

“Announce it to the whole world, why don’t you, Spock?” Jim says, smiling slightly to take the sting out of it.

“My apologies, Captain,” Spock says.

“Come in, Spock, don’t just stand there,” Jim says, neatly avoiding the question.

Spock steps into Jim’s quarters, and primly sits down on Jim’s bed.  “You have not answered my question, Captain.”

“Jim, Spock.  Call me Jim,” Jim says.  He’s still beating around the bush, of course.

“Jim.  What is going on?” Spock says.

“Just doing some reading,” Jim mutters.

“Reading, Jim? Did you not just tell me you threw the book at the wall?” Spock asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jim sinks on the bed next to him, and hangs his head in his hands.  “I was trying.  The thing is - anything Shakespeare makes me think of Kodos - and Tarsus IV.  I had almost forgotten until today that my aunt, on the colony…. she was the one to first hook me on reading. She gave me my first paper book - Twelfth Night.”

Slowly, awkwardly, Spock wraps an arm around him.  “And seeing Governor Kodos again has awakened unpleasant memories,” Spock states.

It’s not really a question, but Jim answers anyways.  “Yes.  I can’t even bring myself to read anything besides work related reports anymore.”

Spock almost seems to hesitate.  “Perhaps, it would be… beneficial to create new memories to drown out the bad ones,” he says at last.

“What do you mean?” Jim asks curiously.

“Would you be… averse to reading and discussing the plays with me?  I must confess to having not read any plays of Shakespeare’s, besides Hamlet, of course, which I read just recently, in light of the Karidian Acting Company’s planned performance onboard the ship.” Spock pauses.  “If you are willing, of course.  I will understand if you have no interest in continuing to bring up old memories.” For all his Vulcan control, Spock still looks a bit disconcerted - and slightly vulnerable for putting up an offer like this.

“No, no, that’s actually a brilliant idea!” Jim says enthusiastically.  “Just… not tonight, ok?  I think I used up all my trauma for the evening.”

Spock nods, once.  “Tomorrow night, then?” he asks.

Jim squirms.  “Tomorrow’s chess night.  Are we forgoing chess?”

“The night after, then,” Spock says.

“Sure.  You should pick a play - I probably have it,” Jim says, gesturing at his bookshelf.  “I bought them all - both individually, and in a collection.”

“Paper books are expensive,” Spock remarks.

“I thought it was worth it,” Jim mutters.

“I do not disagree,” Spock responds.  “I believe I will see you tomorrow on the bridge, Captain.”

“Until then, Mr. Spock,” Jim says, and Spock detangles his arm, and walks out.  Jim watches him go, hoping he won’t let his (perhaps not so little) crush for his First Officer get in the way.

***

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next evening, Jim paces in his quarters, chess set prepared on his table.  Just tell him, part of his mind whispers.  Then you can get over it, when your straight-as-a-ruler First Officer rejects you.

Is it not better to continue to hide, for that reason only? Another part whispers.  After all, if he finds out, Spock would be well within his rights to ask for a transfer.

There’s a chime at the door, and Jim wills both warring factions of his mind into submission.  He certainly won’t be making any comments tonight.

“Captain,” Spock says calmly when Jim answers the door.

“Commander,” Jim says, matching Spock for calmness.  His mind screams at him, but he keeps that little detail to himself.  As long as he keeps away from Spock’s touch telepathy, at least for the first couple of plays, he’ll be ok.

They sit at the table.  “White or black?” Jim asks, taking two pawns, and offering them both to Spock.

“As I opened last game, I will take black,” Spock says, picking up the pawn from Jim’s hand.  There’s a brief moment of skin contact, and Jim swears he can feel a flash of heat between their hands.

“Black it is,” he says, falsely cheery, and maneuvers the board around to sit the pieces appropriately.  He forces his mind blank, and makes the opening move.

It might be his imagination, but he thinks that Spock deliberately touches their fingers together far more than usual. It’s definitely your imagination, he whispers to himself mentally.  Straight as a ruler.  Leave it, Jim.  Just leave it alone before it all goes to hell.

***

Jim sits and fidgets on the bridge.  Tonight.  There is nothing he fears more than what horrible memories reading Shakespeare with Spock will bring.  He most definitely does not want to have a breakdown in from of his First Officer.

He desperately hopes Spock picks something light.  He really doesn’t want to try a tragedy right now - not when every day seems like a tragedy.

There is a ping on his PADD - a message from Spock.

Are you beginning to have second thoughts about tonight’s activity?

Jim curses mentally - how did he know? There are a solid 5 feet of space between them, so it can’t be his Vulcan touch telepathy.

Not really.  Just wondering what play you picked, Jim messages back, heart pounding unnecessarily.

It is a few minutes before Spock responds.  I had not chosen yet, Captain.  Perhaps you have something in mind?

Jim breathes just a little bit easier.

“A little busy with something, Jim?” a familiar, cranky voice asks.  Jim turns around to see McCoy standing behind him.  He’d been so absorbed in his conversation with Spock that he hadn’t notice his best friend come on to the bridge.

“I suppose you could say that, Bones,” Jim says, attempting levity.  “I don’t suppose you call Captaining a whole ship a little something, would you?”

McCoy rolls his eyes.  “It’s lunch break for the Captain - doctor’s orders.  Now hand the Bridge off to your favorite green-blooded hobgoblin, and I’m dragging you to the mess hall.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Jim asks.  “Spock, you’ve got the Conn.  I have a doctor to placate.”

Spock nods in acknowledgement, and Jim walks off the bridge with McCoy.

They sit down in the mess hall, and McCoy stares pointedly at him.  “Eat up, Jim.  Don’t think either I or the hobgoblin have forgotten the fact that you’ve lost 6 pounds in the past month.”

“How did you know?” Jim mutters.  ‘Spock told me two nights ago it was 6.4.  Does that mean I’ve gained some weight in the last two days?”

McCoy glares at him.  “Jim.  This isn’t funny.  You’ve been avoiding me, and Sickbay.  What’s going on?”

Jim shakes his head.  “Not here, Bones, and not now.”  McCoy looks ready to protest, so Jim ploughs on.  “Please, not now.”

“If not now, when?” McCoy asks him.

“I just…. having Kodos on the ship has opened up a lot of wounds, ok?” Jim says.  “Just.. leave it for now.”

To his credit, McCoy doesn’t ask why.  “Well, the least you could do is eat up.”

Jim does, digging into his food.  “Hey Bones.  Know any good Shakespeare comedies?” he asks offhandedly.

***

Jim stands in front of his bookshelf, staring at all of his collection, trying to pick a good play.  He runs through book after book, trying to decide the least likely to trigger a breakdown.  Bones was no help, of course.  His only advice was ‘aren’t you the Shakespeare expert around here?’ Finally, Jim pulls out his barely read copy of Much Ado About Nothing.  He’s only read it once - so it can’t hold quite so many bad memories, right?  He sets the book out on the table.

This time, Jim anticipates Spock’s arrival, and has the door open.  “Captain,” Spock says calmly.

“It’s Jim, Spock,” Jim says patiently.

“Jim,” Spock agrees.  “Have you decided upon a play?  Since I have so little experience, I decided it would only be logical to allow you to choose.”

“How does Much Ado about Nothing sound?” Jim asks, handing him the book from where it sat on the table.

Spock looks the book over.  “I look forward to it,” he says.  Jim makes to sit down at the table.  “Perhaps you would be more comfortable sitting on the bed?” Spock asks.

“Only if you sit there with me,” Jim says weakly, sinking onto the bed.

Spock settles himself a few inches away from Jim, and opens the book.  “I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon

comes this night to Messina.

 He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off

when I left him.” Spock begins.  He pauses, and looks up at Jim.  Jim smiles slightly, and he keeps reading.  

“How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

 But few of any sort, and none of name.”

Those two lines resound in Jim’s head like a bell, and suddenly, he can smell the smoke again, as Kodo burns the victims of his genocide.

“Jim! Jim!” Spock says, abandoning the book, and shaking him gently.  Jim can’t do anything more than shake wordlessly.  “Perhaps this is not a wise first choice,” Spock murmurs, obviously guessing what had affected him so.

Wait.  Of course- he didn’t have to guess.  Spock is holding his arms.  Vulcan touch telepathy.

“No, perhaps not,” Jim chokes out.  “I haven’t read this one in a while.. I thought it’d be fine.”  He pauses.  “I thought I’d be fine.”

Spock stares at him with too human eyes.  “Is there another play you wish to try? Or would you prefer to stop for the night?”

Jim shakes violently, once more.  “I think… we should just abandon this all together,” he mutters.

“No.  Jim.  You will never find peace with yourself if you let this go.  I believe you need to face yourself.  Perhaps another play, another night?” Spock is still gripping his arms- his proximity is doing funny things to Jim’s brain.

“Yeah.  Sure.  Next time… you get to pick though,” Jim mutters, feeling thoroughly ashamed.

***

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next night, Spock walks into Jim’s quarters, and purposefully picks out a play.  “I have done some preliminary research this time, and I believe this play is well suited to our purposes,” he states, handing Jim a book. The cover of A Midsummer Night’s Dream stares up at him.

“Well, I guess there’s no way to know until we try,” Jim says, hoping there is no tremble in his voice.

They sit down on the bed, in much the same spots they had sat the previous night, and Spock begins to read.  

“Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour

Draws on apace; four happy days bring in

Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow

This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,

Like to a step-dame or a dowager

Long withering out a young man revenue.

Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;

Four nights will quickly dream away the time;

And then the moon, like to a silver bow

New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night

Of our solemnities.”

Unbelievably, Jim begins to feel himself relax, as Spock’s deep voice begins to weave the story of the two pairs of lovers and their misadventures.

“Hey Spock,” he mutters, as Spock finishes reading the passage where Hermia informs Helena they intend to elope.

“Yes, Jim?” Spock asks, bookmarking their place, and closing the book.

“You’ve got a beautiful reading voice,” Jim says.  “I think I’m in love… with your voice,” he adds, catching himself just in time.

“It is illogical to be in love with a single quality of a person,” Spock says - but Jim hopes he hears the humor in it.

“S’not all I’m in love with,” Jim says before he can stop himself.  Spock looks at him. Jim gulps.  “Sorry Spock. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.  I should…” Spock stops him with a finger to his lips.

“I am far from uncomfortable, Jim,” Spock whispers.  “How much do you know about the sensitivity of Vulcan hands?”

“Touch telepathic?” Jim asks, worried.

“I do not believe I have been entirely clear in my intentions,” Spock says.  “I apologize, Captain. I have grossly taken advantage of your ignorance of my culture.”

“Spock.  What are you talking about?” Jim demands.

“In Vulcan culture, the touching of hands is a particularly intimate gesture,” Spock says slowly.

“Wait a minute.  You mean that every time we touch hands while playing chess, or on the bridge or something… I’m making out with you?” Jim asks.

“As I said, I apologize for not being forthright with my advances,” Spock says.

“You were… flirting with me?” Jim asks, thunderstruck.

“I believe that is the term you would use,” Spock says.

“I thought... I thought you would be uncomfortable with my advances towards you!” Jim says, shocked.  “I thought you were totally straight.”

“I confess to believing the same of you,” Spock says.

“No, I’m bi,” Jim says automatically.  “Why limit yourself to half the population? But I thought that relations with members of the same gender would be illogical, for purposes of procreation.”

“That is not the only consideration there is to choosing a mate,” Spock says.

Jim jumps up, and starts to pace, mind working furiously.  “So you’re saying that it’s not totally illogical at all?”

“No,” Spock says.

Jim’s breath is coming fast now.  “This is a Vulcan kiss then, right?” he asks, holding out his fingers.

Spock stands up, crosses to him, and places his own two on top of Jim’s, and Jim swears something electric jumps between them.  “Yes, it is,” he says, voice unusually soft.

Jim stares at Spock measuringly.  “May I kiss you the human way then?” he asks softly, withdrawing his hand.

“I believe it is only fair, considering…”

Jim stops Spock’s speech short by taking a gentle hold of his chin.  “Close your eyes,” Jim whispers, face just a few inches from Spock’s own.  Obediently, Spock does as Jim bids him, and Jim leans in the final few inches to bring their lips together.

The kiss lasts barely more than a few seconds - lips touching, nothing more.  They both lean back, and Jim keeps his eyes closed, savoring the moment.

A hand wraps around his waist.  “Jim?” Spock asks.  Jim opens his eyes - Spock looks concerned.

“Yes?” Jim asks.

“Did I do something wrong?” Spock asks, managing to look slightly horrified.

Jim draws him in closer, and kisses him again, this time longer.  “Absolutely satisfactory, Mr. Spock,” Jim whispers against his lips.

This time, when their lips meet, Spock practically melts against Jim, and it’s all he can do to keep the two of them from not falling on to the bed.  “Spock, stop,” Jim whispers.

Spock freezes.  “Jim?”

“We’re not ready,” Jim mutters, gesturing to the bed.  “Not yet.  At least, I’m not.  I… it’s too soon.”

With the greatest of care, Spock guides him to sit down on the bed, and wraps an arm around him.  “Kodos?” he guesses.

“Kodos,” Jim confirms.  “I’d prefer to save the details for later… but… I had to get food for all the kids somehow...”

“Jim. I understand,” Spock says gently.  “Perhaps we should resume reading?”

Jim nods.  “Let’s skip to the good stuff,” he whispers.  “I’m in no mood to read about the play within a play.”

Spock nods, and begins with the fairy Puck’s first scene.

“How now, spirit! whither wander you?

Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander everywhere,

Swifter than the moon's sphere;

And I serve the fairy queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green.

The cowslips tall her pensioners be:

In their gold coats spots you see;

Those be rubies, fairy favours,

In those freckles live their savours:

I must go seek some dewdrops here

And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:

Our queen and all our elves come here anon.”

Slowly, Jim allows himself to relax again, wrapped as he is in Spock’s embrace, and lets his beautiful voice wash over him.

***

When Jim wakes up the next morning, he finds himself wrapped in a warm cocoon of sleepy Vulcan.  The events of the previous night come back to Jim in a rush, and Jim starts to squirm.

“Jim?” Spock asks softly.  “I hope you do not mind.  You fell asleep while I was reading, and I was unable to detangle myself…”

Jim silences him with a kiss.  “Nope.  No problems here.” Spock stares at him suspiciously.  “Seriously, Spock, I’m fine.  First night in weeks I haven’t woken myself up by screaming bloody murder.”

“Why did I never hear this?  The walls between quarters are not thin, and Vulcan hearing is far superior to human hearing,” Spock asks.

Jim shakes his head.  “You’re always on the bridge early.  Besides, I tend to wake up with my head to the pillow - that’s why I wake up… screaming.”

“I do not understand,” Spock whispers.

Jim shakes his head sadly.  “I dream about what would happen if I had been with my aunt and uncle that day.  Kodos poisoned them all, you know.  The lack of oxygen… they suffocated, ultimately.  I’m already a restless sleeper - if I wind up twisted around so my head is in the pillow, I think I’m suffocating with them and I wake up screaming, but the pillow muffles it.”

Spock presses his face into Jim’s hair.  It takes Jim a minute to realize that Spock is actually shaking.  “Hey. It was a long time ago.  And dreams are just dreams - they’ll pass, in time.”

“Obviously, these have not,” Spock says, voice calm, despite his shaking body.  “It has been a very long time since these events have occurred.”

“What, no exact figures?” Jim asks.

“As I was not with you, I do not have any basis for how long it has been, precisely,” Spock says.  “However, had I been with you, I would not have allowed any of this to happen to you.”

“Spock, isn’t that illogical?”

“It is never illogical to prevent harm from coming to one’s mate,” Spock says, a slight growl in his voice.

“Um… what?” Jim asks.

“It is never illogical to prevent harm from…”

“Yes, I heard what you said.  But I don’t understand why you said it,” Jim says, putting a finger over Spock’s lips so he can’t finish his sentence.

“I find that the idea of you being injured makes me feel rather… violent and perhaps somewhat ill,” Spock says.

Wow.  This is so not a conversation Jim wants to have right now.  “We’re due on the bridge in about twenty minutes,” Jim says.

“Jim,” Spock says.  “I apologize if..”

“No, don’t.  Please.  But we do have a job to do,” Jim says.

“Jim!”

“Spock.  Please.  Not now,” Jim begs.

Spock simply nods once, eyes dark.  He bends down, and kisses Jim carefully.  “I will see you on the bridge,” he says softly, before exiting the room by way of their shared bathroom.

Jim lays there just a few minutes more, hoping he hasn’t irreparably screwed this up.

***

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

On the bridge, Jim sits ramrod straight in his chair, not looking back at his First Officer.  He can’t shake the feeling that Spock is upset over the turn the morning’s discussion had taken.  Carefully, he hides his panic throughout the morning.

At lunchtime, Uhura grabs his arm.  “Captain.  May I have a word?”

Jim forces a smile on his face.  “Sure thing.  Let’s grab a table first though.”

Uhura smiles at him, and leads him to an open spot.  “So, I happen to have noticed that you’ve really cut yourself off from everybody the past month,” Uhura says, leaning in.

“What?” Jim asks, totally caught off guard.

“Kirk.  I’m a communications specialist, remember? I know how people communicate - and when they’re not.  So, mind telling me what’s going on?” Uhura looks at him expectantly.

“Uh…. Well… I…” Jim stutters.

“Have you talked to Spock recently?” Uhura asks, plowing along fearlessly.

“Depends.  What topic are you referring to?” Jim asks.  “I talk to him a lot - I can’t not talk to my First Officer.”

“No, did you really talk to him?” Uhura presses him.

“Are you trying to tell me something specific here while being all cryptic?” Jim demands.

“Yeah, actually.  But if he hasn’t brought it up…”

“Uhura.  Spit it out,” Jim says finally.

“Do you think this level of protectiveness Spock has is just a commanding officer thing?” Uhura says finally.  “I served with Spock and Pike, remember?  This thing... it goes way beyond that.  I think the two of you need to have a nice little talk about your personal relationship.”

“Already been had,” Jim mutters.  “Could have gone worse.”

Uhura hits him.  “James Tiberius Kirk, what did you do?” she asks.

“No, no, I doubt it’s what you think.  Is it normal for Vulcans to move so fast and become so possessive so quickly?” Jim asks.

“Define quickly,” Uhura asks.

“Space of one night since the conversation,” Jim mutters.

“Oh dear.  You had no idea, did you?” Uhura says pityingly.

“No idea?” Jim echos.

“Well, he’s been very sneaky, I’ll give him that,” Uhura says.

“You mean the Vulcan kisses thing?” Jim asks.

“That’s the one.  It’s been going on for ages.  He’s been ‘invested’ and ‘possessive’ for a long time now, Jim.  You just didn’t notice it.” Uhura smiles at him, satisfied.

“I screwed up,” Jim mutters.

Uhura eyes him.  “Do I have to smack you again? As soon as shift’s over, go talk to him!”

Jim raises an eyebrow, ironically.  “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple,” he mutters.

“Communications expert,” Uhura stresses.  “He’s been watching you all day on the bridge - and you were definitely not watching him like you normally do.  I’d be willing to bet a lot of money that he’s far more worried about your reaction.  Which, I presume, has something to do with why you’ve been cutting yourself off from everyone for the past month,” Uhura says, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

Jim sighs.  “Kodos.  Can we not talk about that?”

Uhura grimaces.  “Fine.  Just do everyone a favor, and go talk to Spock.”

“Good talk.  How about we not repeat this any time soon?” Jim asks.

Uhura rolls her eyes at him.  “Go on - back to the bridge with you.  And give your Vulcan a smile or something.”

“Why does everyone assume he’s my Vulcan?” Jim asks.

Uhura sighs.  “Obviously, you are.”

***

When Jim gets back to the bridge, he settles back in the chair, and does paperwork, mulling over the conversation with Uhura.  Finally, he decides to man up, and shoots a message to Spock’s PADD.

We still on for tonight?

Jim holds his breath, feeling like a teenage girl, as he waits for Spock’s reply.

I  believe we still have two acts to go in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Jim exhales silently, and types his response.

That’s not exactly an answer.

The PADD goes silent for a while.  Jim winces, sure he’s done something wrong.  FInally, the PADD dings again.

To clarify then.  Yes.

Jim definitely does not fidget the rest of the shift.

Well… maybe a little.

***

After dinner, Jim follows Spock back to Spock’s quarters.  As soon as they’re inside, Jim turns to face Spock.  “We need to talk.”

“Yes, Jim?” Spock asks.

“Look. I’m going to freely admit to being totally ignorant about Vulcans and their lifestyles.  But I want to tell you right now… I’m kind of scared shitless by all the possessiveness,” Jim says.

Spock blinks once.  “Jim. I do not wish to scare you.”

“I know, and it’s not your fault.  It’s… it all circles back to Kodos,” Jim mutters, frustrated.

“Jim?” Spock asks.

“Kodos.. he took a twisted, warped interest in me.  When I said I did… a lot of terrible things to get food…. Kodos was the one.  He had a bunch of sick, twisted games - the smart ones survived.  He seemed to… like me for some reason.” Jim shakes his head.  “He was… really possessive - going so far as to kill a guard who tried to touch me.  So… I… um….” Jim stops, unable to go on.

There’s a faint brush of skin on his face, and Spock gently flicks a tear away from his cheek.  “I am so very sorry, Jim. I had no idea.”

“You wouldn’t have though- that’s the thing,” Jim mutters.  “It’s illogical to expect you to just know something that no one else on this ship knows - right?”

“I have often found that pain is often highly illogical,” Spock says gently.  He traces Jim’s face with his fingers.  “I am sorry, Jim.”  He leans in, and places the gentlest of kisses on Jim’s lips.

“I should be the one being sorry to you,” Jim mutters.

“I do not understand,” Spock says.

“I’m the one who screwed up, not you,” Jim mutters.  “I should have warned you.. or something.”

“Knowing what admittedly little I did of your past, particularly concerning Kodos, I should not have moved so fast,” Spock says.  “You are correct, in the fact that Vulcan and Human cultures are very different.  According to Vulcan culture… we have been ‘in a relationship’ as humans term it, for far longer than you realized.  I had forgotten to factor that in to my actions.”

Jim wraps his arms around Spock.  “Hasn’t this been a mess?” he asks with a small, sad smile.  “Uhura was right - communication is important.”

Spock kisses the top of his head.  “I am sorry, Jim.”

“Me too,” Jim says.  “How about we try… starting over?”

“Does that imply you want to begin at the beginning of the play again?” Spock asks.

“No.  We should finish this one... and try something else.  Because you’re right, Spock.  I do need to face this and get over it - or I’ll never forgive myself.”

***

Jim runs back to his room to get the book- and realizes that he’s sweating.  He hadn’t even noticed the massive change in temperature between ship normal and Spock’s quarters.

He grabs A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and grabs The Tempest in addition to it.  He has no idea if they’ll get through A Midsummer Night’s Dream, or not, but he wants to be prepared.

Jim slides back into Spock’s room by way of their shared bathroom.  Spock is sitting upon his bed, hands clasped in his lap.  “Jim?” he asks.

“Here I am, books in tow,” Jim says with a slight smile.

Spock holds out a hand, and takes the two books from him.  “You brought The Tempest as well?” he asks.

“Well, I figured…. if we get done with A Midsummer Night’s Dream… we should have something else to start… if you still want to after this?” Jim asks, stuttering.  Why is he so uncharacteristically nervous?

Spock touches his fingers to Jim’s.  “Is there a reason I would not wish to continue?” he asks.

“I don’t know.  Nevermind, it’s silly,” Jim mutters, sitting down next to him.

They sit in silence for a few moments, as Spock rifles through the pages to find their spot.  Jim leans against Spock’s chest, as he begins to read again.

They finish the partial reading of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, skipping over certain parts - most notably the play within a play, towards the end.  Finally, Spock closes the book.  “Do you wish to start The Tempest now?”

“Maybe another day?” Jim asks.  “We’ve made such good progress.”

“Of course, Jim,” Spock says, pressing a quick kiss to Jim’s lips.  “You must sleep to maintain optimal performance.”

“Can I stay with you?” Jim asks quickly, before he can talk himself out of it.  “It was kind of nice to not wake up in a panic this morning.”

Spock doesn’t quite smile - but it’s a close thing.  Jim can see everything in those expressive, human eyes.  “Of course, Jim.”

Jim sighs, and curls into Spock’s chest, before falling asleep.

***

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

When Jim wakes up, he’s sweating, and very much alone in Spock’s room.  There’s a PADD left on the side of the bed, flashing.  Jim picks it up, and reads the message.

A situation has arisen in one of the science labs that required my immediate attention.  My apologies for not waking you, but I calculated that you needed the extra sleep.

Slowly, Jim stretches, wondering just what had happened in the science labs to pull Spock there so early in the morning.  He exits Spock’s quarters by way of their shared bathroom, and puts on a fresh uniform before making his way to the bridge.

When Jim arrives, Sulu looks to be almost in a state of panic at the helm.  The ensign sitting next to him keeps trying to make herself look as small and unobtrusive as possible at the navigation station.  Uhura is frantically working away at her station, and Spock’s station is empty - presumably still solving the problem in the science labs.

Jim reclaims his chair, and settles himself in before asking, “Status report, Mr. Sulu.”

“Well, Captain, there’s a bit of a problem in the Greenhouse,” Sulu reports.  “One of the plants we’ve been cultivating has sort of… grown itself into the main computer system.  It’s sentient, Mr. Spock says.  That’s where he is now, trying to make contact with the plant.  Problem is… we have no navigation or engine power beyond rudimentary propulser lifts right now.  Uhura’s trying to talk to Starfleet Command to get help.”

“Where did we pick up the plant in question?” Jim asks, forcing himself to stay calm.  No engine power? That’s bad beyond all belief.  It’s only a matter of time before they’re unable to float on auxiliary power and propulser lifts.

“It’s actually a plant that Science genetically engineered,” Sulu says grimly.  “We had no idea it would go this wrongly.”

“How did a plant gain access to our computers?” Jim demands, trying not to think about the consequences that will surely follow this reckless bit of engineering.

“Well, that’s the thing.  We’re not really sure, Captain,” Uhura pipes up, still focused on her instruments.

“I… um…. might have left a PADD nearby the pot of this plant,” Sulu confesses.

“And the plant, having a mind of its own, was simply able to manipulate the touchscreen of a PADD, and hack our incredibly secure mainframe? Jim asks.

“Like I said earlier, Captain.  The plant literally grew into the mainframe.  It’s like… embedded into the system now.  It somehow grew roots in the PADD,” Sulu corrects him.

“I want someone to take that original PADD apart,” Jim orders.  “If we can break the hold on the outlet, maybe we can regain some power.  Uhura, I want you to try sending electrical pulses through the mainframe once we get everyone clear of the PADD.”

“Captain, Commander Spock has attempted to mind meld with the plant,” Uhura reports, tapping her earpiece.

“Belay that order - he tried to do what?” Jim asks.

“Not trying - he is doing it!” Uhura exclaims.

“Uhura, you have the bridge - I’m going down there.  Make sure you’re ready with those electrical pulses on my mark,” Jim says, not waiting for her acknowledgement before heading off the bridge.

***

Jim runs down to the science lab known mostly as ‘the greenhouse’.  He wishes he could page Bones to meet him there - but then he remembers that the communications are all down.  So, he just runs a little bit faster, and lets himself be a little worried - or more than a little worried for Spock.

When he makes it down to the greenhouse, there’s a circle of science officers clustered around the door to the room.  Jim straightens himself up, and pulls on his best ‘look at me I’m the Captain’ mask.  “Situation report,” he says from behind them.

“Captain!” a man says.  Jim struggles to remember his name - Baldwin, maybe? “We first noticed that power was failing about two hours ago, at which point we paged Commander Spock.  Shortly after that, the communications failed.  The plant was sending us messages through the PADD, and the Commander deduced that the plant was sentient - at which point he attempted a mind meld.”

“He’s still in there, I presume,” Jim asks.

“Yes sir.”

“How long has it been?” Jim asks.

The scientist frowns, thinking.  “About thirty or forty minutes, I think. Could be more,” he says.  Jim suddenly remembers his name - Carlos Baldwin.

“Has anyone tried to go into the room?” Jim asks.

“Mr. Spock ordered us to stay out,” another scientist says - Holmes is the name that springs into Jim’s head.

“Someone run to get Doctor McCoy,” Jim orders flatly.  ‘I’m going to try to go in there.”

Lieutenant Holmes runs off towards Sickbay.  “Captain, might I suggest…” Lieutenant Baldwin asks hesitantly.  He stops short, and Jim stares at him expectantly.

“Go ahead,” Jim says, when he realizes the Lieutenant is waiting for his answer.  

“Allow at least one other person to go in with you?” Lieutenant Baldwin says.  “We don’t know what’s going on in there.”

“Fine,” Jim says. “But, I want to be in there, yesterday.”

Lieutenant Baldwin starts working on the door.  Jim slowly comes to the realization that the door has been wired shut from the inside.  “Lieutenant! Stop!” Jim shouts, pulling him back from the door.  The wires spark, and fizz, just as soon as Lieutenant Baldwin removes his hand.

“What was that?” he asks.

Jim bends to examine it.  “We’ve got a problem.” He frowns and studies the wiring.  ‘Someone get Scotty up here, immediately.  We need some of the protective gear from Engineering too - these panels are live.”

Another Science officer runs off towards Engineering.  Jim continues studying the panel, and waits for Scotty.

***

Scotty arrives, breathless, wearing a pair of thick, insulated gloves.  “What am I attempting here, Captain?” he asks, Scottish accent thick.

“See this wire here?” Jim asks, not waiting for confirmation.  “It needs to be uncrossed from this wire here, and this one here.  We might need to grab something to uncross the wires with while wearing the gloves - the whole panel’s live.”

Scotty pulls a pair of pliers from his belt. “Like this, Captain?”

“Perfect.  Now give it here.”

Scotty crosses his arms, and grips the pliers tight.  “Not a chance in the world, Captain.  You can all move back while I do this.”

Jim glares at him, but doesn’t argue.  “Hurry up then.”

McCoy and Lieutenant Holmes come running back.  “What’s going on?” McCoy demands.

“Not now, Doctor,” Jim says, eyes on Scotty.

“Damn it man, you can’t drag me here and then offer no explanation!” McCoy shouts.

“Spock attempted a meld with a sentient plant.  Scotty here is about to fix a live wire panel.  Take your pick,” Jim says tersely, not taking his eyes off of Scotty as he manipulates the panels.

McCoy swears under his breath, but stops complaining.  Scotty lets out an inarticulate shout.

“What? What happened?” Jim asks.

“Nay, nothing! It’s opening!” Scotty shouts.

The door slides open with a hiss, and Jim runs inside.

***

Spock is sitting on the ground by the potted plant when Jim runs in.  His eyes are still closed, and his hand is still on the plant.  Jim mutters and swears under his breath as McCoy takes his readings.

“Well?” Jim demands finally.

“There’s nothing wrong that I can detect,” McCoy says finally.  “But that’s not really saying a lot, since Vulcan readings are all over the place anyways.”

Jim sits down next to Spock, and takes a hold of his hand.  McCoy glares at him.  “What are you doing, Jim?” he asks.

“Something stupid,” Jim replies, and places Spock’s hand on the meld points of his face.

He barely has time to register McCoy’s shouting, as he’s pulled under into the mind meld.

***

You must let go of the ship’s power supply a calm and logical voice says.  Spock.  Jim breathes a mental sigh of relief.  Jim.  What are you doing?  How did you get here?

Put your hand on my meld points Jim replies.

There’s a sense of alien wrongless in Spock’s mind.  What is this?

He is human, and resides on our ship.  If you do not relinquish our ship, he, and all the other creatures on this ship will die.

Jim can feel the slight shake of exhaustion in Spock’s voice.

Then you are at our mercy.

Will you be merciful?

There is no reason for us to be.  Perhaps you will enjoy watching everyone die.

Why are you doing this?

Spock.  Pull out now! Jim screams with all his mental power.

***

Jim comes back to reality with a slight jolt - and realizes he’s lying on the floor, tangled in Spock’s arms.  McCoy is glaring down at both of them.  “Get everyone out of the room!” Jim gasps.  “Send a runner to the bridge - tell Uhura to do it now!”  Jim starts scooting backwards on his back, pulling Spock with him.

“Captain.  What is going on?” Spock asks.

“The ship’s condition is too critical at this point,” Jim mutters.  “Uhura’s running shocks of energy through the system.  Couldn’t do it while you were still connected.”

McCoy is snapping orders at one of the Science officers outside, and then Jim hears footsteps.  McCoy come back in.  “Both of you.  Out of the room, and get to Sickbay.”

“No.  Bridge,” Jim says.  “I have to make sure this works.”

McCoy glares at him.  “Uhura’s plenty capable.”

“Don’t care.  She’s my ship, Bones.  I’m fine.  Now let me get back up there.”

McCoy narrows his eyes.  “The second everything comes back on, you get your ass down to Sickbay, understood? That was a damn fool move to pull back there.”

“It was necessary,” Jim says.

“I also, must return to the bridge,” Spock says.

“Not an chance in the galaxy,” McCoy says.  “You were just melded with an unknown sentient being, for an insane amount of time.  You don't get a choice.  You just get to get your green blooded ass down to Sickbay.”

“Doctor…” Spock starts.

“Don’t even try.  Jim, get up there, and hurry up, will you?” McCoy asks.  Jim untangles himself from Spock, and starts to get up.  As he does, he presses a discrete Vulcan kiss to Spock’s fingers in an almost apology, before leaving for the bridge.

***

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Jim doesn’t quite run to the bridge - since it isn’t quite an emergency at this point, he doesn’t want to be seen to run.  Instead, Jim walks very quickly.  There’s a crackle at one of the nearby comms units as he walks by.  “Bridge to Captain?” Uhura’s voice asks.

Jim stops, and hits the button.  “Captain Kirk here.  Go ahead.”

“Bursts of electricity have worked so far, Captain,” Uhura says.

“Good.  Stand by - I’m on my way up right now,” Jim replies, relieved.  Communications are a good thing.

“Understood.  Bridge out,” Uhura says.

Jim continues on to the bridge, tapping his fingers impatiently in the lift up.  There’s no one else inside, so he doesn’t feel too badly about letting his impatience and worry of Spock show just a bit.

By the time he arrives at the bridge, though, it’s strict professionalism.  He’s greeted with the usual call of “Captain on the Bridge.”  Instead of taking his usual seat though, he walks over to Uhura’s station.

“Well? Is power being restored? What’s our status?” he asks, leaning over her shoulder.

Uhura smiles up at him.  “Everything is returning to ship shape, Captain.  Reports from the science team down in Botany claim that the plant has fried up.  They all refuse to touch the thing for now, but it’s dead and can’t hurt the ship any longer.”

“Very good.  How’s our power?” Jim asks.

“All flight capabilities restored,” Sulu reports.  “Where to, Captain?”

“Continue on previously projected course, Mr. Sulu,” Jim says easily, breathing a mental sigh of relief.  “Uhura, you still have the bridge.  I’m ordered to report to Sickbay, as soon as possible.”

“My condolences, sir,” Uhura says with a sympathetic smile.

“She’s all yours, Uhura,” Jim says, and heads down to Sickbay, satisfied his ship will be alright.

***

The second Jim steps into Sickbay, he’s accosted by McCoy with a tricorder.  “Do I get to sit down?” Jim asks his friend with a smile.

McCoy narrows his eyes.  “Fine.  Sit.”

Jim takes a seat next to the bed Spock is lying on.  His eyes are closed, and Jim thinks he looks particularly peaceful.  “How is he?” Jim asks McCoy.

“The hobgoblin’s going to be just fine, Jim.  He just exhausted himself on that meld.  You’re the one I’m worried about right now.”  McCoy jabs him with a hypospray.  “And don’t think I didn’t see that little stunt you pulled earlier.”

“What stunt? The mind meld? That was a totally necessary action for the safety of the ship,” Jim protests, playing dumb.  He really hopes his friend isn’t referring to the Vulcan kiss.  He doesn’t even know if Spock wants to make this thing public or not.  Is it even an official relationship?

“Shockingly, I know you’re not a stupid as you act sometimes, Jim,” McCoy says, dashing Jim’s hopes.  “I’m a doctor - I know biology.  So, do you care to tell me why you’re sneaking kisses with your first officer?  That kind of thing tends to be frowned upon.”

“I wasn’t actually sneaking anything - or not like you think,” Jim says after a pause.

McCoy chokes.  “You mean.. you… and him….”

Jim nods.  “Yeah.”

“How long!” McCoy whispers violently.

“A few days,” Jim mutters.  “I was planning on telling you - I really was.  But all that’s happened was we kissed while he was reading me Shakespeare, and I fell asleep on top of him.” McCoy looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel.  “Clothes on, Bones,” Jim adds helpfully.

McCoy splutters.  “You… you….” Then, inexplicably, he starts laughing.

“Is something funny?” Jim asks, put off guard.

“Oh yes.  The two of you! There’s been a betting pool going on in Sickbay for months on when you two would get together!” McCoy laughs.  “It makes Nurse Chapel so mad every time anyone brings it up!”

“Oh damn it,” Jim mutters. “I’d totally forgotten about Chapel.”

McCoy turns serious.  “Don’t worry too much about it.  She’s the only one who didn’t quite realize she didn’t have a chance - certainly not with you around.  She’s nothing if not professional - she’ll get over it, Jim.”

Jim groans.  “Still.  Would you mind keeping this quiet - at least for a little bit?” He hesitates.  “I really have no idea about Spock’s stance on making this common knowledge.  And more importantly - who knows how the higher ups will react to this?  The whole no-fraternization rule kind of exists for a reason.  I have no desire to jeopardize either of our standings with the Admirals.”

McCoy grips his arm.  “Sure, Jim.  I get it.  Winning all that money can definitely wait - just so long as I get to be the one to do it.”

“Only if I get a cut!” Jim jokes.  “Wait - is this a real betting pool?”

McCoy grins sheepishly.  “Not for real money, per say.  Medical thing.”

“If you say so,” Jim says.

“Oh, but I do!” McCoy says.  His grin turns slightly maniacal.  “And you don’t want to make the man with the hyposprays mad!”

***

Jim closes the curtains around Spock’s bed, and sits there, waiting for him to wake up.  Carefully, Jim slides one of his hands into Spock’s, feeling the reassurance of the pulse in his wrist, and warm skin.

He almost doesn’t notice when Spock’s eyes open, he’s so deep in thought.  “Jim,” Spock whispers.

Jim jolts back into awareness. “Spock!  You’re awake!”  He makes to remove his hand - but Spock tightens his grip.  “How are you doing? Should I get Bones?”

“Will you stay here?” Spock asks, keeping a tight, almost painful grip on his hand.

“As long as I’m allowed to - and maybe longer if I can get away with it,” Jim promises.

Spock nods, and releases his hand.  “I am well,” he murmurs.

Gently, Jim kisses Spock’s forehead.  “I’ll be right back,” he mutters.

“Bones! Spock’s awake,” Jim says, walking over to him.

McCoy follows him back to Spock’s bed, and makes a through investigation.

“Well?” Jim asks, impatient.

“You’re fine - just over-exhausted,” McCoy reports.  “I see no reason to keep you in Sickbay if you make sure to rest.  No work for either of you for the next day.”  McCoy pulls Jim aside.  “Make sure he sleeps - real rest, understood, Jim?”

“Crystal clear, Doctor,” Jim says, snapping off an ironic salute.

“Good,” McCoy says in an undertone.  Louder, he states, “Go on - off with you two!  Stop cluttering up my Sickbay!”

Spock stands up carefully, and Jim helps him back to his room.

***

Spock collapses on his bed, and Jim can’t help but be a little worried about Spock - he actually looks exhausted.  Jim sits next to him on the bed, and wraps an arm around his waist.

“Hey.  How are you doing?” Jim asks.

Spock tilts his head.  “The meld has left me slightly disoriented and more tired than usual,” he replies.

Jim hugs him tighter.  “I was so scared when I walked in and saw you just sitting there on the floor, Spock.”

“I am well, Jim,” Spock says.

Jim presses their lips together carefully.  “Doesn’t stop the illogical human from worrying,” he responds, pulling away.  “Call it an… emotional attachment. Sue me, I’m human.”

“I would not have you try to change, Jim,” Spock says.  “I have often found that emotions are not always as illogical as you seem to think I find them.”  Spock’s eyelids start to droop.

“Hey.  You should get some sleep,” Jim says, removing his arms from Spock with a slight pang of sadness.  “Bones said to make sure you get some actual sleep, in addition to meditation.”  Slowly he starts to stand up.

Spock grabs a hold of his hand.  “I would much appreciate it if you would stay with me,” Spock says.  Jim sort of gets the feeling Spock says this more for Jim’s benefit than his own - but he’s glad all the same.

“Always,” Jim says.  Spock lies down, and Jim wraps himself around Spock.  “Lights,” he mutters, and the lights turn off.  “Spock?” Jim mutters.

“Yes Jim?” Spock asks.

“Thank you,” Jim whispers, not sure if Spock will understand why he is thanking him.

“Thanks are illogical,” Spock says.

“You didn’t have to let me stay with you,” Jim says.

“If, as you stated days ago, sleeping with me keeps your nightmares at bay, I would not accept any other state,” Spock says.  “It is the height of illogic to allow you to suffer from a lack of sleep when I am able to provide relief from it in such a simple way.” There’s a slight pause.  “Besides, I find I much… enjoy sleeping with you.”

Jim finds Spock’s mouth in the dark, and presses another soft kiss to it.  “Sleep well, Spock,” he whispers.  He doesn’t say what he’s really thinking - I think I might be in love with you.

***

 

 


	7. Two Months Later (on shore leave)

“Spock, I don’t know about this,” Jim whispers, still wrapped in Spock’s arms.  “I don’t think it’s even smart to try…”

“Jim.  Do you trust me?” Spock asks.

“I do.  But..” Jim pauses.  “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“You said it yourself, Jim.  Hamlet was one of your favorite plays,” Spock says.  “Therefore, it is only logical to attempt to regain those fond memories.”

“Yes… but.  I’m not sure if I can do it.  Remember how bad it was the first time you tried to…” Jim trails off.  “Spock, this is going to be worse.  I don’t want to accidentally hurt you or something!”

“Loathe though I am to remind you, Vulcans have three times the strength of humans.  I doubt you would incur any lasting damage to my person,” Spock says.

“What about mentally?  Couldn’t something this traumatic damage the tentative link that formed?” Jim asks.

Spock traces the meld points on his face.  “Jim.  I am mentally disciplined enough that I could mitigate the effects - if any - on the link.”

Jim draws a breath.  “Alright then.  Spock, I’m scared.  Even reading some of the other tragedies was bad.  This can only be worse.”

“Jim, you are.... I believe the phrase is ‘psyching yourself out’.  You must trust me - I will not do anything to hurt you.  However, I also believe that you must face this irrational fear, or it will haunt you all your life.”  Spock presses his forehead to Jim’s.  “Please, t’hy’la, have trust in me.”

Jim melts - he can’t help it when Spock calls him t’hy’la.  “Ok.  We can try,” Jim murmurers.  “But Spock…”

“Jim.  We share a mental link, as you yourself pointed out earlier.  I will know if you are discomforted beyond what should be.” Spock kisses him, slowly.

Jim closes his eyes.  “You’re right - of course you are.  I’m just being illogical, aren’t I?”

“Perhaps.  But it is also very logical.  You were very scarred by these events, and Hamlet reminds you of this trauma, now.  It is difficult to combat such trauma.  But, I believe if you wait too long, it will be overwhelming to attempt to rectify later.”

Jim nods once.  “Fine.  But I want to shower first.”

***

Jim closes his eyes, bracing himself as Spock starts to read.  He forces himself to remember not the damned performance on his ship, but countless hours of Spock’s voice, interspersed with soft kisses, and murmured reassurances.

“Who's there?

Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.

Long live the king!”

Jim feels his body tense of it’s own violation.  The play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king! his mind supplies.  Kodos.  Kodos.  Jim wrenches his mind back to Spock.  Carefully, he runs a hand down Spock’s chest, reminding himself of reality and memory.

“Bernardo?

He.”

Spock stops, and Jim can practically feel his measuring gaze.  “Jim?”

“I’m good,” Jim mutters, forcing himself to relax.

Spock kisses him softly.  “You are doing well so far,” he whispers.

Jim nods tersely.

“You come most carefully upon your hour.

'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.

For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,

And I am sick at heart.

Have you had quiet guard?

Not a mouse stirring.

Well, good night.

If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,

The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.”

Finally, Jim can’t take it any longer, and screams.  Tears roll down his face, and he can feel himself shaking.  “No! Get them off my ship!” Jim begs.

Spock closes the book abruptly, and runs his hands through Jim’s hair.  “Jim. Shhhh. T’hy’la, I am so sorry.  Jim. Jim, focus on me.  Ashayam. Please.”

Jim stares at him, unable to stop himself from crying. “Spock?” he gasps.

“Jim. I am here. I am so sorry, k’diwa.  Look at me.  They are not here, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jim chokes out.

“You are safe with me, yes?” Spock asks, hands cradling his face.

“Yes,” Jim whispers.  “T’hy’la,” he whispers, reaching for Spock’s face.

Spock closes his eyes, and touches their foreheads together.  “I should have listened to you. Ashaya, please forgive me.”

“You… were right too…” Jim chokes out, breath still coming in hitches.

Spock shakes his head.  He wipes away Jim’s tears, and kisses his face gently.  “Ashayam.  I am so very sorry.”

“You said that,” Jim mutters, striving to sound normal.  “I thought it was illogical to be sorry.”

“Nothing about this is logical,” Spock says, voice rough.  “Not while you are hurting.  Regret too should be illogical - but I never should have suggested this.  I regret causing you this pain deeply.”

“Spock.  It’s ok,” Jim mutters.

“It is not ‘ok’, as you put it, Jim.  You may not have noticed, but you are still shaking.” Jim actually hasn’t noticed.

Jim leans in and kisses Spock, carefully.  It helps calm his nerves - reminds him of reality.  Spock grounds him.  “We should try again,” Jim whispers in Spock’s ear, letting his tongue flick out and trace the shell.

“Jim.  We did not even manage to get past the first two pages of the play,” Spock says.  He shivers as Jim continues licking his ear.

“So next time we’ll get four pages in,” Jim says confidently, mouth still inches away.  “You’re right, Spock.  I need to get over this.  What if I’m captured by some enemy, and they know about this weakness?”

Spock pulls away from him.  “You are.... quite correct.... Jim,” he whispers.

“I’m so sorry, Spock - I know it’s hard for you to see me like this,” Jim whispers.

“You are not allowed to make this about me,” Spock says sternly.  That voice sends shivers up Jim’s spine.

“It’s both,” Jim argues.  “We’ll take it slow - we’ll have to. But this is something I really think we have to do.”

“Jim.  As you wish,” Spock says.

“Yeah.  Damn straight it is,” Jim says, as he pushes Spock onto the bed.  “You see, I think that was quite a trauma.  That means you get to make it up to me.”

Spock actually smiles at that.  “As you wish, Jim,” he repeats.  Then Jim doesn’t bother to think any more as Spock starts to kiss him.

***

Finally, after trial and error, and more panic attacks than Jim cares to count, they manage to make it through the first act of Hamlet.  Jim’s actually feeling pretty good about all of it, if he’s honest with himself.  On the other hand - shore leave is ending, and Jim is less than thrilled with trying to read the play on his ship - with the echoes of that damned performance echoing in his ears.

“If you would prefer, I will cease our reading of the play,” Spock whispers, as they sit in his quarters before shift.

Despite the sweltering heat of Spock’s quarters, Jim shivers.  “No.  We need to do this, remember?”

Spock faces him.  “No.  We do not.  I refuse to allow you to torture yourself this way.  Are you attempting to punish yourself in this bizarre method for surviving when none of the other colonists did?”

Jim shrugs.  “Well… when you put it like that..” he mutters, hanging his head.

“Jim,” Spock says, lifting Jim’s chin up so their gazes meet.

“Yes?” Jim asks, unwilling to meet Spock’s even gaze.

“I believe it is wise to wait,” Spock says calmly.  “I do not wish to be subjected to your continued pain.  Furthermore, I do not believe it would be helpful for any of the crew to be made aware of the situation.  It would likely decrease crew morale, and the walls are thin.”

Damn him- Spock always knows just the argument to make with him.  “Okay,” Jim mutters.  He was never punishing himself with the plays - not intentionally.  But now, since Spock voiced this opinion, Jim finds it to be an acceptable compromise.

Spock stares at him.  “You are only just now discovering what I had deduced weeks ago,” he states.

“Huh?” Jim asks intelligently.

“You were subconsciously punishing yourself,” Spock states.  “Captain - Jim - that is highly illogical.”

“I'm pretty sure we’ve established that pain isn’t logical,”Jim says.

Spock leans his forehead against Jim’s.  “You will cease this immediately,” he says.

“Are you ordering me, Mr. Spock?” Jim asks playfully, just a little bit shocked - and perhaps equally excited by this new turn.

The Vulcan stares at him, no doubt aware of the direction his thoughts have taken.  “If that is what it takes to keep you from such a destructive path, yes,” Spock says slowly.

Jim leans in and kisses him.  “Whatever you say.”

Spock pulls away from him.  “Jim.  I am speaking in all seriousness.”

“Yeah.  I know,” Jim mutters.

“There is nothing you could have done,” Spock says.

“Uh huh…” Jim mutters.

“I will convince you,” Spock says calmly.  “I have all the time in the universe to make you see how it was not your fault.”

Jim nods, almost on automatic.  ‘Show me?” he asks.

Spock fits his hands to Jim’s meld points.  “Always, t’hy’la.”

For the first time since Tarsus IV, Jim is content to simply exist.

********


End file.
